


In a Faraway Kingdom

by jetaimerai



Category: Glee, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M, Pre-Slash, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-06
Updated: 2010-12-06
Packaged: 2019-01-28 21:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12615668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jetaimerai/pseuds/jetaimerai
Summary: Kurt is a boy who was born with magic. He is sent to live with his father in the kingdom of Dalton, where magic is outlawed, in the search for a better life. Kurt decides this includes singing. Glee/Merlin BBC fusion.





	In a Faraway Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need any knowledge of Merlin to understand this fic. This fic was written for the lovely [](https://aelora.livejournal.com/profile)[aelora](https://aelora.livejournal.com/). ♥ Beta'd by the brilliant [](https://novoamor.livejournal.com/profile)[novoamor](https://novoamor.livejournal.com/), thank you so much! This fic is complete crack, do not in any way take it seriously!

“Kurt, I think it’s time.”

Kurt shoots a questioning glance at his brother, but Finn just shrugs. Kurt looks back at his mother and asks, “Time for what?”

“I think it’s time you move to Dalton to live with your father.”

Both boys tense. “My father? The one who never deigned to visit us in our entire life? No thanks,” Kurt spits, even though his heart leaps at the thought of finally leaving the tiny village.

She sighs wearily. “Kurt, you _know_ how dangerous it would be for him to leave his post as court physician to visit us. But now that you are of age, I believe you are ready to go live with him.”

Kurt has never fully accepted that explanation for his father’s absence in his life. But as he knows that it will be the only explanation he’ll ever get, he lets it go. The idea is still bothering him, however. “Why just me? What about Finn?” he asks, darting a look at his brother.

Before their mother could speak, Finn speaks up. “Don’t make me go! I want to marry Rachel and have a family with her! Don’t take that away from me!”

Both their mother and Kurt are a little stunned by the vehemence in his voice. She gives him a reassuring smile. “I understand, Finn. I wasn’t going to ask you to go, unless you really wanted to. Kurt, on the other hand…” She looks back at .him. “I know you’re lonely here, sweetie, and you have such great gifts – your eye for aesthetics, the beauty of your voice and the power of your magic though you know you mustn’t use magic openly, it’s far too dangerous. I believe – no, I _know_ – that you would be better off at Dalton, where you will be better appreciated.”

She paints such a lovely portrait of a near utopia for him, that his natural cynicism battles with the optimism he feels rising within him. “You’ve always said that Dalton would be dangerous for me – what has changed?”

“The Queen’s reign will be over soon, once the prince assumes the throne, and once that happens it is widely believed that everything will improve. It will still be dangerous, but your father can protect you. I know you, Kurt. I know this life here has never satisfied you. I’ve always known that you were made for better, greater things, and I think it’s time you had them.”

Kurt briefly looks over to Finn to see if he is insulted, but he’s just nodding along with her. It would be sad, but seeing Finn hold him in such high regard touches him. Seeing their love for him reflected in their eyes, he knows that he has made his decision. “Okay, mother, Finn. I’ll go to Dalton.” In the next moment, he is enveloped in a family embrace, and tears come to his eyes. He wants to go to Dalton, but he will dearly miss his family.

 

 

A few days later he sets off for Dalton, but not before a long, drawn out and teary farewell. His mother and Finn come to see him off, as well as Rachel and other friends and acquaintances he has made in his life. Rachel pretends to be happy that her competition for best singer in the village is leaving, but he knows that she’ll miss him, and he will miss her as well. It takes all of his willpower to finally mount his horse and leave, but his eyes don’t dry until several hours later.

It’s a few days before he reaches Dalton, and when he does, he doesn’t regret the decision. He is filled with awe once he steps foot within the city walls. He walks through streets full of stalls of merchants selling goods and crowds wanting to buy them. The castle looms in the background, resplendent and beautiful. His home village could never compare to the splendor and bustle of life to be found here!

His admiration is cut short, however, when he reaches the town square. There is a huge crowd gathered, and in the middle, a large wooden stake, with a struggling, sobbing old woman tied to it. Kurt’s stomach sinks. He doesn’t know what she has done, but he sympathizes with her.

“This woman has been found guilty of using sorcery and enchantments!” a voice bellows out, silencing the crowd. All heads, including Kurt’s, move up to see who must be Queen Sue in a frankly unusual dress, one that Kurt would have never imagined royalty wearing – the color is perfect, a gorgeous deep dark blue, but there are two white lines adorning the sides of its long sleeves and a large, open collar. But, as royalty, Kurt grants that she can obviously wear whatever she wants. “And no one can be more powerful than _me_ , Queen Sue Sylvester, and so she must be burned at the stake!”

The meaning of her words sinks in. He’s known all his life that magic usage is dangerous in Dalton, but to see its consequences like this, right in front of his eyes… it’s too much. Fighting back tears, he looks away from the center of the square and moves on to find his father. This was a mistake, he just knows it now. Dalton looks impressive, but he could die at any time if they ever found out what he could do! Why would mother send him here?

After getting a little lost, Kurt finally finds what he thinks is his father’s home. He takes a deep breath and braces himself for finally meeting the man. He timidly knocks on the door, and after a few moments pass by in silence, he knocks harder. He hears footsteps approaching, and then the door opens to reveal a middle aged man wearing a long blue robe. There is a moment where they just stare at each other, until they break the silence simultaneously.

“Father?”

“Kurt?”

His father looks so in awe to see him, as if he never expected it to happen, that Kurt already finds himself forgiving him as they hug fiercely. They cling tightly to each other, and are reluctant to part, but eventually they do. His father leads him inside wordlessly, and when the door closes, he faces him with watery eyes. “I am so sorry, Kurt. I know apologies won’t make up for what I did, but the Queen would never have let me leave and live to tell the tale. It was a miracle that I managed to smuggle you out in time. Do know this, Kurt: I thought about you, and your brother, and your mother, every single day. I hope that one day you will forgive me.”

He has held a grudge against his father for his entire life, but now that he’s finally here, Kurt realizes he doesn’t have the ability to hold on to it. So he lets it go. “You won’t have to wait long, father, because I already do.”

He is stunned. “Thank you, son.” He hugs him again, though this embrace ends more quickly. Once they part, his face grows serious. “I am sorry to say, however, that to the rest of the world, for all intents and purposes, we are not father and son. To reveal that would put us at risk. So out in public, call me Burt.” Kurt is stricken by the stark reminder of the reality of their situation, and he nods in understanding. Burt then immediately changes the subject. “Now, just because you’re my son doesn’t mean you get to stay here for free without doing anything to earn your keep. Thus you’re going to assist me in my work.”

Kurt cringes as he finally takes a good look around the room. Almost every surface is covered with bottles, all filled with things Kurt has never seen before. “How can I assist you if I don’t know anything about all of this?”

Burt grins. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll teach you. Now come over here, I have some things I need to show you.” As Kurt follows his request, he feels that while life here won’t be perfect, it will be alright as long as he stays with his father.

 

 

A couple of weeks later, Kurt is out delivering medicine to patients. It’s the first time he’s done it, and already he is getting lost. His whole village could fit in the castle alone, so the city is huge. Even though he’s lost, he still finds the chore dull, especially since Kurt can think of other things he’d rather be doing – singing, or designing clothes. Why couldn’t Burt have been the court tailor?

He reaches his destination and knocks on the door. The people inside are rather loud, and they’re talking about something – Kurt catches the word “choir” and his interest is piqued, though he doesn’t know for sure. A man opens the door and smiles politely. “Hello, can I help you?”

Kurt smiles back. “I’m delivering medicine on behalf of the court physician. Here is your cold medicine. Remember to take two drops every morning and every night until your cold clears.”

“Will do, thank you,” the man begins to close the door, but on an impulse Kurt stops him. The man raises an eyebrow at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I couldn’t help but hear some of your conversation, were you talking about a choir?” Kurt asks, trying not to sound too eager but failing.

“Yes, the Royal Choir is holding auditions next week! We always love to go and watch them, it’s always fun to see if those nobles actually have a good singing voice or not – though don’t tell anyone that I think nobles can be bad singers!”

Kurt’s heart soars at hearing “auditions”, only to sink a bit with his emphasis on nobles. “Can only nobles audition?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. They’re probably worried that some commoner will come in and usurp their talent, but I’m not a noble, so how would I know?”

Kurt smiles. “That’s too bad. Thanks, and I hope you feel better soon!” He leaves, while his mind is plotting. There is no way he is not auditioning. He’ll find a way.

 

 

Once he has a moment of free time, he goes to the library. He knows there has to be some registry of nobility – if they’re able to hold auditions just for nobles, there have to be too many for any one man to remember alone – and the best place for such a registry would be the library. He sneaks past the librarian while his back is turned, and after about an hour of searching he finds what he’s looking for. He gingerly takes the volume off the shelf and begins sifting through it.

After a few moments of staring vacantly at the various names and crests which hold no meaning to him, he realizes the flaw in his plan – he has no idea which noble families are well-known here as opposed to more obscure ones. He continues looking through the registry as he tries to figure out what to do. Should he ask Burt? No, if he did, Burt would want to know what he is up to, and he’d surely object to this – he can object all he wants after he lands a spot on the Royal Choir.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost skips over one family who has seven sons. Seven sons seem a little extraneous, even for a noble family. Surely no one would think twice about there being eight sons instead?

Feeling reckless, he takes out the scroll he had hidden under his shirt and lays it out on the table next to the registry. He hasn’t attempted this spell before but he’s sure that it will be easy. How difficult could it possibly be?

He looks around quickly to make sure the coast is clear and then whispers, “ _Icuis bisan raditani huhnan_.” Nothing happens at first, and he frowns. He has been a little out of practice ever since he arrived in Dalton. He tries again. “ _Icuis bisan raditani huhnan_.” This time, it works, and he grins at the scroll proclaiming him to be Kurt Beauchamp, eighth son of Pierre Beauchamp. This will do perfectly.

 

 

The night of the auditions, he has to breathe deeply to dispel the nervousness threatening to overtake him. His whole stay in Dalton has been spent mostly inside with Burt, which has been boring, but had the added benefit of virtually no one being able to recognize him. He has the scroll now, and the night before he altered his best outfit to be more befitting of a nobleman. He is wearing a black vest with a dark blue shirt underneath. The fabrics are cheaper than they should be, but unfortunately, the power to change the fabric of the clothing is still beyond him, and he didn’t have the time to study the spell. He hopes that they won’t look too closely at his clothes.

When he arrives at the choir room, he is greeted by the most handsome man Kurt has ever seen. His slicked back black hair, hazel eyes and charming grin were enough to fill him with jittery butterflies. Oh, he definitely wasn’t expecting this. “Hi, are you here to watch? If so, please go to the standing area.” He gestures to the empty space behind the chairs.

Okay, the fact that he assumes that he’s a commoner is a bad sign, but Kurt keeps to his plan. “No, I would like to audition. Kurt Beauchamp, eighth son of Pierre Beauchamp.” He gives the man the scroll. The nervousness he dispelled before comes back tenfold as the man glances at the scroll and then back up at him, appraising him. He makes sure to continue looking confident, however, as any ounce of anxiety would ruin his plan before it even began.

Finally, the man nods and Kurt is greatly relieved. “Great, we’re glad to have you here!” He extends his hand and Kurt shakes it, marveling in the warmth and smoothness of his hand and the firmness of his grip, and oh, the butterflies are already returning. “I never knew the Beauchamps had an eighth son.”

“Really?” Kurt pretends to be shocked. “Well, here I am!” His chuckle comes out sounding a little more nervous than he intended, and he holds his breath.

“Indeed, here you are.” His eyes roam up and down his body and a shiver runs up Kurt’s spine. “The Royal Choir adheres to a strict dress code of blue and red, as you surely must have known.”

Great. He really should have done more research into the Choir. “Of course, it’s just, I forgot to pack anything in red,” he stutters out and that was real smooth, Kurt, he’ll really believe that one.

The man just laughs in amusement. “Just don’t forget next time, alright?” The man reaches out to brush lint off of his vest and Kurt’s heart stops. His skin still tingles even as he steps away. “Go ahead and take a seat,” he gestures to the chairs in front of the stage, “Your name will be called when it’s your turn.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says and begins to leave, but is stopped by the man’s hand on his shoulder. The touch burns right through him and he can barely think.

“I can’t wait to hear you perform,” he says, and he looks like he truly means it. Kurt swallows thickly.

“Thank you, I hope you like it,” Kurt smiles shyly and then leaves. Once he is seated he feels like he can breathe more easily, away from the heady presence of that man. He is already nervous about pulling this off, the last thing he needs is a gorgeous man staring at him the whole time, though he can’t say that he wishes he wasn’t there.

 

 

A few minutes later, after having introduced himself to the other people auditioning, the murmur of the crowd falls silent as the Queen herself, dressed again in her blue dress, takes the stage. “Now if it were completely up to me I would abolish this… choir,” she says the word with disgust, “but if I did the townspeople would riot, and I can’t be having that. Besides, they provide good music for my dancers. So here’s to hoping we find someone who doesn’t completely suck.” Without further ado, she exits the stage, and there’s a smattering of applause.

She takes a seat next to a beautiful blonde girl in an extravagant red dress – this must be the Queen’s ward, Quinn FaBray. Standing next to her in plain clothing is a curvy black girl, who must be her maidservant. The maidservant catches him looking at her and she smiles shyly at him. Kurt smiles back, thinking that if he weren’t pretending to be nobility, he could have been friends with this girl.

A man standing near the foot of the stage calls out a nobleman’s name, and it begins. The short and stocky nobleman barely makes it halfway through his truly awful rendition of “Knight Me Baby One More Time” before the Queen barks, “Just stop, that was a sorry disgrace to everything that is holy. Get out.” Dejected and looking on the verge of bursting into tears, the man exits the stage. Kurt is suddenly terrified that he’ll get the same reaction from the Queen, even though he knows that he is several times better than that man. With a Queen like that, who knew how she would react?

“And now, Kurt Beauchamp!”

Kurt starts in surprise, but he recovers smoothly and takes the stage. He looks out over the crowd, and his eyes instantly zero in on the gorgeous man, sitting with several other men who are all wearing blue and red; they must be the current members of the Royal Choir. The man smiles at him and Kurt can’t help but smile back, before launching into his rendition of “Don’t Cry For Me, Camelot.”

Everyone goes silent in a way they hadn’t for the previous man, and Kurt knows that he’s doing good. While, like any good performer, he makes sure his eyes keep roaming the crowd, they keep being drawn to the gorgeous man, who is staring up at him with a look of pure awe. His knees buckle slightly, and if that note was a little off, that wasn’t his fault – a lesser performer wouldn’t be able to even perform under such a stare, but Kurt proves his superiority by continuing and hitting every single note out of the park.

Just as he sings his last note, the librarian bursts into the room and shouts, “Stop!” Kurt’s note stops abruptly and he winces at the sound. “This boy isn’t who he says he is! There is no eighth son of Pierre Beauchamp!” Under his arm he carries the registry of nobility, which would assuredly prove his guilt. He is so, so screwed.

The Queen is enraged. “Guards!” she yells, and immediately two guards storm the stage and grab his arms. “Take him to the dungeons!” As he’s dragged away, he chances a glance back at the gorgeous man, and he looks so disappointed that it makes Kurt’s heart break.

 

 

Burt finds out pretty quickly, judging that he’s standing beyond his cell only thirty minutes later. His expression is utterly furious. “What in the _world_ were you thinking when you pulled this little stunt?!” he yells, and Kurt winces.

“I… just wanted to sing,” Kurt says in a very quiet, timid voice.

“By joining the Royal Choir? When you’re not a nobleman?! I thought you were smarter than this, Kurt. If you had told me, I could have directed you to a commoner’s choir! But now you’re here, and it’s not looking good for you. I tried talking to the Queen, but she didn’t want to listen to me. You’ll be lucky if she even allows you to live.” His anger faded at his last statement, and instead he looks truly full of despair.

Kurt had no idea the consequences could be that serious, and dread seizes him. “I’m sorry,” he says, unable to say anything else.

Burt sighs wearily. “I’m going to do everything in my power to get you out of here. And if you do, you and I are going to have a very, very long talk.” Kurt nods his assent, and Burt leaves. Kurt sits down, draws his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them as dread eats him inside out.

 

 

A couple hours later, Kurt is drawn from his despairing reverie when the cell door opens. He looks up and sees the maidservant from before entering with a tray of food. He hadn’t even thought of food until just now, and his stomach alerts him to just how hungry he really is.

He stands up and smiles shakily. “You’re the maidservant I saw before, with the Queen’s ward, right? Thank you.”

She nods as she hands him the tray, which bears bread and cheese. “Yes, I am. My name is Mercedes. Lady Quinn wanted to make sure you had food, I think your performance touched her.” Kurt briefly warms up at the thought – he had impressed the Queen’s ward! “Now why on Earth would you do this?”

Even though he had hours to ponder on that very question, he still doesn’t have a good answer for it. “I just wanted to sing.”

Mercedes laughs. “Well, you do have a beautiful voice, I’ll give you that.” Kurt beams under the praise and is about to thank her when she continues, “But that was still really stupid.”

What Mercedes said is absolutely true, but that doesn’t stop Kurt from shouting “Hey!” in indignation. She just laughs again.

“I’m really pulling for you though,” she confesses with a smile, “I hope I get to see you again.”

Kurt smiles. “Yeah, me too.” After she leaves, Kurt thinks that if he does get out of here, he is most _definitely_ going to be friends with Mercedes.

 

 

A couple more hours later, Kurt is now contemplating the various ways he could use his magic to escape the cell. However, they would make it obvious that magic had been used, and thus he would immediately have to return home – which, depending on his sentence, could be a good thing.

His thoughts are interrupted when the cell door opens, and he is face to face with the gorgeous man. Kurt’s breath catches, because he thought he would never see him again. “I have good news for you, Kurt,” he announces with a grin.

Kurt is completely stunned. “What? Really?” he blurts out.

“Yes, really. You will be allowed to go free, but only on one condition. You have to become my manservant.”

He blinks. “Do all members of the Royal Choir get manservants?”

The man stares at him in puzzlement briefly and then laughs. “Do you seriously not know who I am?” Kurt slowly shakes his head, and the man’s amusement seems to only grow. “I’m Prince Blaine Pendragon.”

At his teasing grin, Kurt realizes what an idiot he’s been. Of course. This gorgeous man couldn’t have been just _any_ man, he naturally had to be Prince Blaine Pendragon. Everyone knows of his tragic story – his parents, King and Queen at the time, had been killed during the Great Purge of magic. He had only been a baby, and so his aunt had assumed the throne until the prince was ready to do so. Kurt had been so used to thinking of the prince as a child that he forgot that he would have grown up by now.

“I’m sorry,” he says, flushing with embarrassment, “I’m rather new to Dalton.”

“Hence another reason why you shouldn’t have attempted what you did,” he admonishes. “You’d have a lot to learn before you could successfully deceive us – not that I’m in any way encouraging you to do so.”

Kurt has to deceive everyone everyday about his magic in order to survive, but he concedes the point. “Of course. I won’t do anything like that ever again, I promise.” And not just in order to save his own life – he never wants to see that look of disappointment on Blaine’s face again. He knows he should just leave it at that, but a thought is niggling at him. “Just, wouldn’t you already have a manservant?”

“I did, but I wanted to keep you around,” he says as if it’s not a big deal that a gorgeous prince like him would want to keep a commoner like Kurt around. Inwardly, Kurt is completely freaking out. “I really wish you were a nobleman, Kurt, because your voice is _amazing_.” The wonder that creeps into his voice weakens his knees, and Kurt has to brace his hand against the wall. “As it is, this was the only way I could convince the Queen to let you free.”

Blaine personally argued for his freedom. Kurt is surprised to note that he is not _actually_ floating on air, though he feels like he is. “Wow, sire, thank you so much. I’m deeply honored.”

Blaine smiles. “You’re welcome, but when we’re alone, call me Blaine. We met on equal terms, and I’d like us to stay as equal as possible. Now, come on, I have a lot of work for you to start doing.” He takes his hand and leads him outside the cell. Kurt looks around in confusion – surely it’s improper for a prince to casually touch his manservant like this, but Blaine doesn’t seem to care at all. So instead, he focuses on the warm feel of the hand around his own as he follows him out.

Kurt may not be living any of his dreams, but this is definitely the start of a nonetheless satisfying life.


End file.
